William Congreve

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.

— William Congreve

Tis well enough for a servant to be bred at an University. But the education is a little too pedantic for a gentleman.

— William Congreve

I find we are growing serious, and then we are in great danger of being dull.

— William Congreve

In my conscience I believe the baggage loves me, for she never speaks well of me herself, nor suffers any body else to rail at me.

— William Congreve

They come together like the Coroner's Inquest, to sit upon the murdered reputations of the week.

— William Congreve

Invention flags, his brain goes muddy, and black despair succeeds brown study.

— William Congreve

Uncertainty and expectation are the joys of life.

— William Congreve

If there's delight in love, 'Tis when I see that heart, which others bleed for, bleed for me.

— William Congreve

Grief walks upon the heels of pleasure; married in haste, we repent at leisure.

— William Congreve

Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

— William Congreve

Blessings ever wait on virtuous deeds, and though a late, a sure reward succeeds.

— William Congreve

I know that's a secret, for it's whispered everywhere.

— William Congreve

A wit should no more be sincere, than a woman constant; one argues a decay of parts, as to other of beauty.

— William Congreve

Courtship to marriage is as a very witty prologue to a very dull play.

— William Congreve